


A Lonely Quagmire

by bittwitchy



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, ASOUE
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Starvation, mentions of dehydration, mentions of fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 00:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15449418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittwitchy/pseuds/bittwitchy
Summary: He felt around the wall, and as he moved forward, he took realization on the fact that he could move forward. A passageway. He walked, and he kept walking. It he stopped, he’d die where he lay, morbid thoughts for a thirteen year old boy, but the truth. If he kept going, perhaps it would just be longer before a body were found, or maybe he’d find his salvation. It was a risk, but a risk he had to take.





	A Lonely Quagmire

**Author's Note:**

> This originally being an idea for an au/divergency from the Show canon for my RP, though as I went through TSS, I realized there were some things that might actually back it up. Take that as you will, but this is meant to fit into show canon, not so much book canon. Before you yell “BUT THE CONTINUITY” think about the show. The Quagmire parents died after the Baudelaires, rather than before. Most of the in-series days were sped up, so that’s exactly what I’m doing too. I referenced the book where I could, but did the changes that seemed like they could fit into the series, too. I thought this was pretty good and decided to post it here.

Lungs still held the smoke from up above. He’d been thrust into the secret trap door by his mother, who he spent what felt like days waiting for. She said she’d come right in, looking for his siblings, but she never did. Quigley’s throat felt dry, hunger rising. He’s running out of time to wait for her.

Attempts to force the door open again are in vain, it seems to have become lodged by something heavy. He felt around the wall, and as he moved forward, he took realization on the fact that he  _could_  move forward.  _A passageway_. He walked, and he kept walking. It he stopped, he’d die where he lay, morbid thoughts for a thirteen year old boy, but the truth. If he kept going, perhaps it would just be longer before a body were found, or maybe he’d find his salvation. It was a risk, but a risk he had to take.

He grew colder in the dark, walking for what felt like days, but likely was just a few hours. He kept walking, and walking, and walking more, continuing forward until he couldn’t continue anymore.  So, he kept moving, moving forward, to the side, there seemed to be lights at one point, but all of them were burned out. He kept moving, hitting open arches, wandering past random holes, entryways, until he saw a glimmer of light reflecting into another passageway. 

He fell upon the staircase, his knee holding a deal of pain from the fact. Crawling up the stairs, he found the doorway, and pushed. He kept pushing, until it popped open, and he found himself in the light– a maze, a hedge maze. Curious, for certain, but he started walking, hopeful he’d find his way out of it. 

It took him about fifteen minutes, the commonplace book he had in his pocket being used to dolt down where he went as he went, his cartography skills never being put to waste. Finally, he found his way out of the maze, and saw a large mansion ahead. At the front door, a copy of The _Daily Punctillio_  laid, and he saw the most dreadful of news– his parents were dead. His name, too, was listed as a victim of the fire. But his siblings escaped, that led to at least the smallest of smiles to appear on his lips. 

He found the doors open when he went inside, spotting a large, mechanical looking door as he stepped further inside. It was open, and as he studied it, it appeared as if it wasn’t a real mechanical door at all. He stepped inside, noticing how the room seemed mostly glass, save or the library in the back. Cages that were empty and skeletons of reptiles, and as Quigley investigated, he spotted the suitcase of someone clearly trying to hide in disguise, looking at his ‘credentials’ he realized quickly that it was a man named Count Olaf. Or, Stephano. Not entirely sure, but the Stephano side seemed to be fake. If he recalled correctly, he remembered occasional _Daily Punctillio_ articles about a Count Olaf. 

As he looked through what he could find, his stomach rumbled, and he fell to the ground. He felt sick, as if he could pass out at any moment. Starving, dehydrated, dizziness was taking over. Quigley’s eyes closed, feeling too weak to stand and search for something to eat, some water to drink. He heard footsteps as he fell unconscious, and a hand touched his shoulder. All went black after that.

When Quigley awoke, there was a glass of water next to him, and a plate with some chinese food, reheated, it seemed. 

He still felt dizzy, sick, even, but he glanced up. He spotted a clean-shaven man, one with a top hat, suit, a suitcase by his legs that seemed just large enough to hold a typewriter.  “ Who are you? “ Quigley asked, and the man hesitated for a moment. Hands clasped in front of him, lips pressed together, until he answered.

      " Snicket... Jacques Snicket. “ It sounded like a real name, based on the tone he used when he stated it, but he hesitated. Almost as if it wasn’t entirely his. Snicket was the part that seemed most real, but curiously, he sounded sad when he said Jacques. “ I’m investigating the mysterious circumstances regarding the death of Dr. Montgomery Montgomery. “ Leaning back where he sat, the Snicket male pointed towards the glass and dish. 

      “ You’ve been unconscious for a few hours, but judging by how skinny you look, I’d say you haven’t eaten in awhile. When I was a boy a little over twelve, I was in a similar situation, one in which I could not eat for over a week, barely had water, only black coffee, which I couldn’t bear to touch due to painful memories associated with the very beverage and my own distaste for anything bitter and disgusting like black coffee, and a glass of water and bowl of bread, although rather filmsy and tasteless, was like a ten course meal by the end of of my mission. Although your situation is worse than mine had been. Still not the best meal I could have procured, but it was the quickest for me to attain. A phrase which here means, Dr. Montgomery had it stashed away in his fridge for future use, or as leftovers, and he had plenty more food that was usable if that weren’t preferred. “ 

Long winded explanation, Quigley quickly grabbed the food, and a fork, shoving a good deal into his mouth. As soon as he swallowed it, he drank a good portion of the water, placing it back down on the ground beside him. 

       “ I need to get to my siblings. “ Quigley stated, placing the food upon the ground next to him. He stood, determined. Looking around the room, he spotted various things that might be useful. And as he looked towards Snicket, Snicket held out an Atlas to him, which Quigley took and looked over quickly.   


       “ I’m glad to see you survived after all, Quigley. “  _Jacques_  said, and Quigley looked over towards him, slightly fearful due to his knowledge of his name.

       “ How do you know who I am? “   


       “I knew your parents. They were associates of mine. “ Snicket stated, and went over a few facts about Quigley’s mother and father, proving his knowledge of the two of them. A smile came to Quigley’s lips at the memories of his parents flooding in– he was so crude to his father that day. He’d sassed both his mother and his father, and deeply regretted it now.   


       “ If you wish to get to your siblings, “ Snicket continued, closing an opened book in his hands– something about secret passageways, written in what appeared to be a commonplace book. Written by what seemed to be a Gustav Sebald. 

       “ I can understand. I myself lost my brother years ago although I am under the belief that he is secretly in a cab somewhere, choosing not to reveal himself to me, and have been unable to maintain contact with my sister, despite the fact she knew my last several whereabouts and continues not responding to my secret codes. However, I cannot state that it would present the best of outcomes if you were to reveal yourself. If you have read Romeo and Juliet, for instance, a Shakespearian tale in which, when Juliet reveals herself as alive, the boy she’d held a teenage love affair with had already died atop is body from an overreaction to her supposed death, which turned out not to be the case, you’d know that revealing yourself as alive when others believe you to be dead may not be a wise choice. “ 

Quigley found it difficult to keep up, but he still tried. Definitely a man well read.

Quigley had gained a great deal of knowledge in the time he’s been at Dr. Montgomery’s home, mostly about a secret organization known as V.F.D. Something Snicket explained in great detail to the boy, including various codes in case he were to come across another member, and belief that if someone could respond to the codes correctly, perhaps they were friend, and not foe. However, due to the schism, it could not be ensured. One thing  _Jacques_ wouldn’t tell Quigley at all was what V.F.D. stood for, as it stood for many things, too many to count. 

However, he did get an idea through his research, particularly early in the day, when Snicket passed out from over-exhaustion, and Quigley had a chance to look at, and take notes, of personal books that Snicket kept hidden away. Including something he seemed to be writing about three others in his situation, a photograph. Snicket had awoken, and told Quigley that he was looking for them, that was the real reason he was there. He needed information on them, due to a promise he made a long time ago. 

When Snicket stated he had to go, he packed up what he could, but ensured a good deal was left behind for Quigley. Snicket had disappeared, stating he had to go to Paltryville to interview someone, that the Baudelaires seemed to have headed there after Damocles Dock.   


Quigley waited, he’d waited for what felt like weeks before something happened– something that forced him to leave. He saw outside, _the Daily Punctillio_ , it stated his siblings had been kidnapped at Prufrock Prep. He went back inside, intent to go on a long trip to save them. He grabbed his commonplace book, the atlas, and a backpack he’d found on the ground, the same one Snicket left behind, had told him to take if he needed it. 

He ran about quickly as he could, shoving random food and sealed beverages into his bag, a copy of the book Snicket seemed to be reading the most, one that Quigley hadn’t read yet, as he was studying the rest of the library first. Large, history of organizations, likely a cover for something else. But then, he realized something else as he was grabbing a few more things to take with him– smoke. A great deal of smoke. When he glanced into the Reptile Room, he realized a torch was thrown into the glass.

The smoke was getting harder to handle, the flames engulfing everything around him. He ran, a few burns getting on his leg, and he jumped out of the house as the entirety of it engulfed in flames. He took a deep breath, patting dust off himself. He had a long way ahead of him, first off, to Paltryville, to find  _Jacques_  Snicket. After that, when he enlisted Jacques help, he would set off to save his siblings.

Though, when he arrived to Paltryville, he found something interesting. Notes, notes left behind in a building with the same eye he spotted tattoed on  _Jacques_  ankle, he found another of Count Olaf’s disguises, or the nameplate at least, and a few photos he seemed to have taken of himself. He also found notes left behind, not just of Olaf’s, but of a Dr. Orwell, as well. Looking through them, he found something about a V.F.D. headquarters, as well as a few photos from a Masquerade. One, he thought was very interesting– a photo of  _Jacques Snicket_ , but, although he looked similar to the man he met, he wasn’t the man that Quigley had met.

He didn’t have time to think of that, though, and leaving the photo behind, he set off. He needed to get to the Headquarters, so he could find someone who could help him. He needed to get to his siblings, and if it so happened, he would need to help the Baudelaires, as well. Snicket seemed not to have made it in time, so it was up to Quigley now. He had to rescue his siblings, first and foremost, and if it so happened, he’d save the Baudelaires too.

How simple, he thought it would be back then. 

**Author's Note:**

> As this was meant for my RP Blog, it's meant specifically for me and my partners to write a universe in which this happened (unless the show decides to do this too, in which case, I can't stop that.) if you're also a roleplayer looking for AU Threads, just remember to ask me first, send me a message on tumblr (bittwitchy), or just link to this fic. Don't claim originality on an idea you didn't have before reading this, blah blah blah. Beyond that, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Also, originally I was gonna end this by having the POV change, and Lemony was going to leave an 'anonymous" call to Jacques Taxi to tell him about Quigley, but when Jacques stopped by, he realized Quigley had already left and saw the remnants of Monty's home. Footprints telling him that Quigley escaped, which led him to making that video interview. But I thought changing the point of view at the end was more of a theatrical trick than a written one, and I figured it would confuse and annoy people. So I left it out and placed it here in the notes instead!


End file.
